1 Chapter 1: Hajuko Returns

"Hajuko, we miss you! We're waiting for you."

I stared blankly in front of my aging NEC laptop I bought from an online shop. The screen glitches every now and then because of a terrible fall. Two years of exploiting its capacity so I can produce daily updates for my readers, it's barely hanging.

It's been four weeks since I finished a fanfiction novel. And as I look back, I've just realized it brought me a lot of pressure. The fanbase kept me from living the passion. They've become the reason why I write, until it consumed my mental health.

The void in my heart gradually grew that I forgot the reason why I am writing. It used to be for myself--a therapy I imposed so I do not have to feel insecure towards the world. It used to be a castle I built so I could live at peace, but I invited too many people in my village. Day by day, people would knock at my door and they would earn my interest until at some point, they had tried to be the head of household. They would dictate how I should buy this furniture or why my chinaware sucks that I have to replace them.

Silly me, I didn't say a word.

I let them consume the story. My novel blew up that it kinda felt scary. As a result, I lost my voice all the way to the end. I became afraid of what they would say; afraid I might disappoint them if I wouldn't agree to their sentiments.

"Queen Hajuko, please come backkkk!"

Everyone seems so sad and bitter about my social media isolation. I don't blame them; I would feel the same if my favorite author finished a novel and didn't leave a single word afterwards. But little did they know, I always see their messages, good and bad ones, to the point that I've had too much exposure on conspiracy theories of my whereabouts.

Two years ago, I made a romantic story about a girl named Keiko who outpoured her efforts into helping a male idol named Lander. The guy fell into a huge debt that only Keiko could ever solve. If you'd ask me, I guess it became the talk of town because it's a fanfiction, and the character portrayers are pretty famous in my country. But I wonder why the story reached local celebrities that they would, at times, slide into my direct message to express a support. I wonder what magic I did.

I hid from the penname Hajuko for two years. I wanted to keep a low profile. I didn't want that much large of attention from people so I never revealed my full name.

"Kohana Jung!!!!!!!"

I snapped from this daily episode of Remembering Hajuko's Journey into Writing. My full name echoed through my fragile eardrums. It resonated throughout the house.

"Fucking what, Benjiro?!" I asked in a high-pitched tone.

I looked at my brother Benjiro brushing his teeth, readying himself to work. "Nothing," he said and continued staring at the mirror.

My brother Jiro and I live in a small apartment together; away from our parents residing miles from us. They think that the urban life fits us better so they decided to deport us from the province and God knows how we should figure out the living ways in the urban.

Jiro is three years older than me. I'm 21, so you can do the math. Both of us are working at different companies. He is a software developer and I am a videographer. But when in house, we act and look like typical siblings. We both divide our tasks inside the house, even when it comes to finance. He is the only person who knows that I am writing a novel, that is why there were times, when it was still in progress, that he would nag at me for sleeping too late. But sometimes I would also catch him reading my story and giggle in a corner. Every Sunday, he would treat me to samgyupsal. But when Monday comes back, his nagging would continue. Jiro, to sum up, is a fucking tsundere.

He used to be so loud, but right after I finished my online novel, I noticed he stopped teasing me. He has become too conscious of his actions, I guess. When he would catch me staring blankly, he would start talking about some funny things at work. Did he sense my pitch-black behavior? Did he suddenly notice I've become too emotionally sensitive?

"I'll be working late. You don't have to wait for me," he said and went inside his room. "Lock the door if you don't have plans outside, 'kay?" he added.

"Aight."

It's my day off. I have nothing else to do besides reading my readers' messages.

"Hi, Hajuqueennn! How are you? If you would ask me how I am, well, it's my chemotherapy day today. Hard as hell, but I've been battling cancer for two years, and I only endure this because I got inspired by your internet novel. Same years as your story's age!!! So, I just wanna check up on you. I miss you and your stories. I hope you can reach out soon."

My heart glowed upon reading the message in a form of a photo. She also sent me a picture of her; a lovely smile from a fifteen-year-old girl wearing a violet bonnet and hospital gown.

It came to me that I have to stop this childish social media isolation. Maybe if I broke my silence, more people like her would feel a little spark in their hearts to speak and believe in themselves again, just as how much I wanted myself to. I mean, maybe it's time to communicate again.

"I'm doing fine, Chelsey. I wish for your speedy recovery. You'll be in my prayers. Lovelots! -Hajuko"

Seconds after I hit the enter, the bird app went crazy over the trending spot: Hajuko is back. This Chelsey girl is one hell of a sneaky fan.

Might as well go along with this idea. I've been wanting to hear their sentiments about my previous work.

"Hey guys. I missed you a lot! Sorry for being too quiet. I'm now in the mood for conversations. Ask me! #AskHajuko."

I leaned back for a momentary rest. Oh, God. What did I do; what came into me? It's only 9 a.m. and people are so active to gossip about my month-long silence and sudden Twitter comeback?

"@jukijiji_09: So let's start off with your hiatus season. How's the real Hajuko today? #AskHajuko @haju_ko"

I've been on Twitter for almost 8 years. It's always been a small account until I wrote the fic. You know, small account culture—it's when your heart leaps for joy when a stranger retweeted your tweet or you got three notifications in a matter of two minutes. It's been 8 years, so I wanted to preserve my personal, absurd thoughts of the day, so I made a separate account to filter my words, basically. So if they're gonna ask how my day has been, truth be told, I'd be lying on my business account.

"@haju_ko: Hi, @jukijiji_09. I had a lot of things to work on the previous month. But today's great. I finished two cups of coffee and watched my favorite show. In a nutshell, just enjoying the perks of privacy. LOL!"

Yes, I downed two cups of black coffee to experience palpitation.

"@niceu_zenitsu: Hajukoooo, so I wonder what's the next talk of town huh? Are we gonna get a book two? #AskHajuko"

"@haju_ko: Hi, @niceu_zenitsu. As of now, I am not planning to. I am focusing on real-life issues of mine, haha!"

"@llamalordt: #AskHajuko We've only known so little about u ghorl. D'ya mind if u share some facts that won't hurt ur incognito mode, LOL."

Hmm, this tricky bitch sabotaging my privacy.

"@haju_ko: Hi, @llamalordt. A known fact about me is that I'm a private person, kekeke. But, for the question's sake, I'm a fan of AD9, and I'm planning to watch their concert next month!"

This Q&A game on Twitter went on for almost three hours. After a month of prolonging my feedback anxiety, I've finally overcome it. And with the help of the genuine fans, I managed to answer without screwing up my private life, LOL.

I'm about to close the segment until I received a direct message from an account named "Sei."

"@seia_96: Hi, Hajuko. I've always wanted to do this but I never got the chance to because of my busy schedule. Uhm, you know, just wanna compensate you for doing a good job relieving my stressful days through your updates. So, yeah. Just please accept it."

It was a fuzzy experience to comprehend this message. I know I'm a sucker for gifts so I got really curious about what I would be receiving.

I tried to stalk the handler of @seia_96 but his account is in private. All I could ever see in his icon is a guy wearing a yellow sweater and his whole face digitally smudged by a paint tool. Yeah, I thought it was a joke, silly me, until I received a text message: a notification from my bank that a money transfer was made on my account worth 50 freaking thousand pesos. And it's from an entertainment called… wait, what the hell?

It's from DBX Entertainment—the company where my favorite boy band works for?